At All Times And In All Fields

There Is No Original Truth, Only Original Error.

If We Did Not Have A Feminine Being Within Us, How Would We Rest Ourselves?

Poetry Is One Of The Destinies Of Speech... One Would Say That The Poetic Image, In Its Newness, Opens A Future To Language.

In Living Off All The Reflecting Light Furnished By Poets, The I Which Dreams The Reverie Reveals Itself Not As Poet But As Poetizing I.

It Is A Poor Reverie Which Invites A Nap. One Must Even Wonder Whether, In This "failing Asleep", The Subconscious Itself Does Not Undergo A Decline In Being.